Shivers
by Lejon Om Norr
Summary: Alexander .Norway. and his brother Kristjan .Iceland. had their parents killed by a drunk driver. They now must live with their uncle who hates them both. How could it get worse? Oh yeah, when the drunk who caused all this wants to make it up to you
1. Prolouge

This is only the prologue to the story; the story will start with Norway and Iceland living with their new guardian. Denmark will come into this story right away, trust me. This is a Norway x Denmark AU story, don't like don't read. I know this is short and not all that good, but I wrote this because I got bored, I don't know if I'll continue it or not, just depends

Disclaimer: I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia, though I wish I did. Also, if you've ever read the book 'Shivers' this is not baied off that, but I did take her idea to put the temperature under each chapter, so that's not mine either

Anyway, enjoy

**Shivers**

**70 Degrees; Oslo, Norway**

**(Alexander)**

The day my parents died was probably the warmest day of my life. Oh, and it was also when I met him.

I remember why I've always hated funerals. They're dreary and depressing, everyone wears black and nobody wants to say anything unless they have to speak. It blurs the line between life and death, and makes us all realize how close death really can be to us; chasing our tails in our everyday life. As our friends or family pass on, it only shadows our hearts into views of our own inevitable deaths. I hated that feeling.

I clung to my younger brother as the priest spoke his quiet blessings over the two coffins that lay side by side; lid closed to hide the torn bodies of the inhabitants under the top. His silky silver hair currently framed around my face as I rested my nose and mouth against his head.. His ice blue eyes were drifted closed and his fingers gripped around my arms so tightly that his knuckles were white and my arms ached. But I didn't blame him; our parents were dead, after all. My blonde hair, messy from nights of bad sleep rustled in the cold breeze and danced along with my loose clothes in a movement of dance. A scarf wrapped around both our necks, tying us together. I had wrapped the scarf around my brother as he had started shivering as the night set in on the final minutes of this funeral; the burial.

I watched as the caskets were lowered into the ground, and any last partial glimpse of my parents I could get was gone with that first toss of muddy dirt into the two side-by-side holes in the ground. My brother tensed in my arms, and I whispered quiet words of apology and comfort into his ear. I blamed myself for this. My parents were dead; we were told they died in a car crash because of a drunken driver. We would have died too, if we had went along with them to the store where they were headed. But I convinced them to let me stay so I could help my brother with his homework. I didn't know that would be the last time I ever say them alive. In a way, I would have rather died with them. Because now, we really don't have anyone except for our mothers brother, our uncle. But I hate that man; and he hates us. Whenever we saw him we'd get into arguments, him and I; my brother always terrified because of it. I'm afraid that he'd start hitting us or abusing us if we live with him. He has hit me before… But that is beside the point here. The point is our parents are dead; and we are all alone. All because of a man too stupid to not drive while he was drunk. And you want to know the worst part? That man walked away from the crash with only bruises and cuts. It just wasn't fair.

When I next turned my attention on the grave site, I saw that it was already fully covered over; and what few guests had come to mourn had nearly all left by now. Some shot us sympathetic glances as they left, but I ignored them all with my usual calm demeanor as I usually wore. My purple colored hues settled on the tombstones that read my parent's names in perfectly engraved marble.

_Astra and Jakob Hallkatla,_

_Rest In Piece_

I heard my brother stifle a choking sound in his throat, and I knew he was trying not to cry. He, unlike me I must admit, was much closer to my parents than I was. I know how much he must miss them, and I feel so sorry for him. I want to help, but… I don't know what to do. I am horrible with emotions and feelings, even my own, so I don't know what to say to comfort him beyond 'It will be alright;. I'm a horrible brother, aren't I?

"Ice…" I began, using my common nickname for him we have used since children. That nickname came to be because, while we lived in Norway and that was where I was born; my brother was born while on a vacation in Iceland. So the nickname 'ice' kind of stuck. But it fit, since he tended to have a calm demeanor just like I did, most of the time anyway. "Do you want to say goodbye to mom and dad?" I asked quietly. My sibling quietly nodded, and I led him over to where the grave sites were. I pulled the scarf away from my neck so it only hung around him, allowing him to kneel before the graves of our parents. Pale hands folded together and he bowed his head, muttering under his breath. I only caught a few choked words as he tried not to cry, things like 'I'm so sorry', or, 'I'll miss you so much'. Even, 'I need you here', which really only made me feel worse about what happened.

I had been standing still watching my brother when I first heard the footsteps. My brother seemed not to notice the sound, so caught up in his reminiscing and speaking to our parents, even though they couldn't hear. But I heard it, footsteps crunching over grass in even heavy steps. The kind of eerie sound in an empty graveyard that could make a listener hold their breath in anticipation, maybe even fear about what was to come in time. I didn't realize I was holding my breath until the footsteps stopped right next to me and the air rushed out of my lungs when I opened my mouth. Who was this person? Someone who was at the funeral and forgot something, maybe? But as I turned I realized that was anything but the case; I didn't recognize this man at all.

A man taller than I was, much taller to my chagrin, with a muscular yet lean built form stood next to me wearing a long black trench coat over his body. I could tell he was probably older than me too; I being about nineteen and he appearing more like he was twenty-one or somewhere around there. He had wild blonde hair that attached to his skull, messy not being a good enough word to describe the spiky manner that came to mind with his hair style. And yet it seemed to work for someone like him, with his angular features and pale peach colored face. I could just catch sight of dark ocean blue eyes as they looked forward at my parents' grave site and my brother kneeling before them. I caught their full color when his eyes turned to meet mine. His expression was currently pretty blank, but there was a sort of wildness in his eyes that told me he was holding back how he wanted to act right now. His slightly slouched, relaxed form of standing suggested a teenage-boy kind of attitude in him. One of those people who thought everyone wanted him. I hated that. He opened his mouth to speak at me, saying,

"You… Are you their son?" He asked, with a nod of his head to the grave site once again. I found myself vaguely annoyed at such a question, but I replied either way, as I was taught to so when I was asked a question.

"Yes." My voice held its usual monotonous air to it, sounding like a dead sort of speech. At least, that's what people told me I sounded like when I spoke.

"… Sorry." Tall Blonde said after a moment of silence. It was then that I recognized him. I had seen him only once before, for a moment; and only in dim dark light. I vividly remember him standing there, eye's half lidded in a passing headache, one hand twined through his hair as he looked at the scene before him, of that red car smashed into a blue van beyond repair. Blood dripped down his cheek from a bad gash on his head, but he looked otherwise unharmed then. As I looked at this tall blonde before me, I noticed the stitches along his forehead, parallel to his eyes and partially hidden by the hair that sometimes hung in his face. My expression instantly sharpened into a glare.

"It was you. You killed my parents." I accused coldly. This drew my brother's attention, as I noticed his head snap back to look at who I was speaking too at the words; his trance of speaking with our parents broken at the time. Tall Blonde looked like he wanted to say something then, but I beat him to the punch. I wasn't going to let him even try to defend himself. "Don't apologize, you're not sorry. This is your fault! Why are you the one who's still alive while my parents are dead?" I demanded. I tended to keep a calm demeanor all the time, even to an annoying point, but I did have times when I could get easily angered. And this was one of those times; in the face of the man who was the start of all my problems. "You should have died!" I shouted at him. I noticed the man visibly flinch, and for just a moment I regretted my shouting, but only just; because I remembered what he had done.

"Dude, I'm sorry… My friend Gilbert told me to drive-"

"Don't apologize." I repeated, forcing myself back into my calm, cold attitude once again. And why did he call me 'dude'? Just by listening to his speech I could tell he was a person I would hate. He seemed like one of those 'out-there' kind of people, who do things they shouldn't and are usually loud and obnoxious. He must be withdrawing himself now, since he was in the face of two now orphaned kids whose parents he killed by his own stupidity.

"… I see I shouldn't have come here then," Tall Blonde eventually muttered under his breath.

"No, you shouldn't have." I agreed coldly, reaching out to help my brother up off the ground so we could leave. Unfortunately, Tall Blonde kept talking.

"Listen, my name's Mathis," Mathis? He must be Danish, I decided, you could tell by his name and despite speaking in Norwegian perfectly, he did have a bit of an accent to his tone. "And I want to make this up to you. Maybe we could, I don't know... talk about this or something..." He said after a moment, running a hand through his wild blonde hair and looking up at the dark sky. He seemed hesitent, picking his words out of all the possibilies of what he could say. Oh, had he never killed another person before? I thought sarcasicly to myself. Yeah, right. I shot another glare at him,

"No. Why would I want to talk with an idiot like you? Not to mention the man who killed my parents." I said. My voice had long turned monotonous again, but in a way it made my speech sound even colder to the Danish man. Mathis vaguely frowned at the refusal, but I said nothing more about it and simply walked off with my brother beside me; holding my hand protectively around his as we walked away from that man that changed our lives.

I didn't know how much he would change mine in particular until after that first encounter.

**Yeah, it's not much. But pease review, I need comments D=**


	2. Chapter 2

So, basically I continued this becuase my friend as school bugged me to do so. Yeah...

And also, nothing really happens in this chapter in my opinion. I wrote a long chapter, but I wanted a place to cut it up so I decided that the end of this part was good enough. The next part will probably, finally, be in Denmark's PoV. Probably...

Anyway, that's all I rally have to say about this chapter

**I Get Lost (And Other Signs of the Apocalypse)**

**57 degrees, Oslo Norway**

**(Alexander)**

_A-n-er… Al-xan-r… Alexander!_

The sound of a near-by voice calling caused one of my pale hands to rouse from the warm shelter of the blankets hiding it and its attached body, the hand landing lightly on the top of the alarm clock on the near-by night stand, as if that was the source of the annoying sound that was rousing me from sleep. Unfortunately it wasn't, and the voice called once again, now with a mix of confusion.  
"Alexander?"  
At the familiar tone of voice, I decided it was safe, so I shifted my position in the tangle of bed sheets to look at the owner of the voice that was pulling my from my hard achieved sleep. My lavender hues peered into that of a pale, icy blue hue held by round eyes. The boy who had been calling to me, I noted, was one I knew well. Of course I knew him well he was my brother. We shared a room for God's sake. In the current light my brother appeared paler than he normally was, and his messy head of pale hair shined silver in the light that filtered through the near window. His thin body currently wrapped in loose-fitting clothes that seemed a bit too dressy for a teenager. A white button down shirt that was of cleanly folded linen, and dark black slacks that fit well on his form. My brother, Kristjan, always seemed to dress like that. Though I did note the un-tied off-white ribbon looking tie that hung around his neck. He never had been able to tie those.  
I pushed myself up into a sitting position with my hands, leaning back on one palm and pressing the other to my head as I turned to check the time on the clock next to me. It blinked back at me: 9:34, and I winced at the late time. I had to admit this was a horribly late time to get up, even though I didn't have work my job at the library today as I usually did. Still, it was late.  
Looking back at my brother I asked in a perfectly leveled tone,

"Ice… Why did you wake me up?" I inquired, brushing my annoying blonde hair from my face that currently wasn't pinned back properly to prevent the strands from tickling my nose. I knew that I slept in late, but usually Kristjan never bothered waking me up if I slept in. Some nonsense about 'needing my rest' or something like that. These days were my few free days, and sleep would probably be the best thing for me, true, but I still didn't like sleeping the day away. It made me feel terribly lazy.  
Turning his broken attention back on me, Kristjan said, "Ah… well, I was leaving and I didn't want you to worry if you woke up and I wasn't there like last time." He explained with a short bit of thought. Leaving, huh? Where to this time, I couldn't help but wonder. Though admittedly, I was pretty sure I already knew.  
"Ah… Going to see Tino and Berwald again?" I asked with an educated mind, finally taking my hand away from my forehead, giving up on my attempt of keeping my blonde bangs from my eyes; letting the victorious tresses fall down and tickle my skin. Kristjan nodded,

"Mh, yeah. They invited me to a movie, so I thought I'd go with them." Tino and Berwald, I thought absently. I didn't know much of the two other than what I had heard Kristjan say about them. Tino was a kind Finnish man, and Berwald was a tall Swedish man who tended to come off as a quiet intimidating person. Kristjan had met them a few months ago, and Tino was the most persistent of the three to have them be friends, so he went along with it, and after a while they did become a good sense of 'friends'. I am protective over Kristjan, I will admit, but I didn't object at all to his new friends. It has been nearly a year since our parents' deaths, and I thought that this would be a good chance for my brother to get out and get back into the roll of life once again. He needed to, I thought. For a while after our parents' death he just stayed in our room. So I wanted him to get out again. He deserved to have a better life than sitting in our room all day.  
I swung my legs over the side of my bed and stood to my feet, bedspread falling back to the bed from my form and my night wear hanging loosely on my lean frame. Annoyed by the golden bangs blocking my vision, I looked over at the nightstand for that little golden cross pin I used to pin back my hair that my mother had given me long ago. Oddly though, I found the pin to be missing from its place. Vaguely confused at this discovery, I raised a hand to my temple, only to scathe something solid and metal hanging precariously off the end of a stubborn strand of hair. Ah... I must have fallen asleep with it still on, and it slid mostly off during the night, I realized. A habit I really needed to quit.

Looking back over at Kristjan I nodded absently and said, "That's fine… thanks for telling me. I'll walk you down there, alright?" There I went being over protective once again. Well, he was my little brother after all, and the only member of my family that still remained who I was actually close to. So could you really blame me?

"Of course," Kristjan nodded with a positive response. Looking at the silverette for a moment I stepped over to him, gold hairpin still in one hand as I reached up to tie the white ribbon looking fabric around his neck into a bow, commenting, "You need to learn to do this yourself, Ice." Kristjan only laughed under his breath.

With my task of tying up the bow done without the hassle it used to cause me when I first attempted to tie this for my brother (Bad experience, involved a lot of knots and eventually large scissors- don't ask), I turned back to look at my small bed, which was now in disarray and no where near neat. Now, while I wasn't really a clean freak, I did like things to be neat and orderly. It helped me find things and I just liked having a nice, clear space to think. Because of that I was quick to make the bed back into place, folding the sheets nicely and evenly; folding the white sheets over the deep navy colored bedspread that adorned the mattress.  
Finishing this small job, I nodded in satisfaction at my work before walking across the room and picking up the clothes I had left out on his chair last night for today. Even though I hadn't work or classes, I still needed to go out at some point. I wasn't anti-social or anything, just usually very busy is all. But, with my clothes retrieved and a call to Kristjan that I would return in a moment, I crossed the hall to the bathroom, hoping to take a shower before I left, easily sliding the loose sleepwear from my body.

After around twenty minutes in the bathroom, I found myself in my room once again, my brother sitting on his own bed and reading something or another, and I brushing out my recently dried hair. I didn't bother caring much about my appearance in the eyes of others, but I did need to fix that gold cross back into my hair to keep it from falling into my face like it tended to do most of the time. And after years of practice, I managed to get that in perfectly after only a moment. Glancing over my appearance for my moment I sighed through my nose at my simple attire. Like my brother, I had the habit of dressing nicer than I should for my age. A dark pair of nicely-fitted slacks with black shoes poking out from under the hems; and a long-sleeved pin-stripe dress shirt of a very light, cyan color, the stripes themselves being a near white in color. Simple it was, but it worked for someone like me who couldn't care less what people thought about me.  
I set the brush back onto the dresser, light blonde hair framing my face neatly. Though there was that one odd gravity-defying strand of hair that stuck out from the side of my hair into a little curl, a stand that seemed untamable all my life, no matter how hard I tried. So I grew used to it. Peering into the small mirror I noticed the slight shadows of dark under my eyes that showed my absence of good sleep for a couple of days, but I was sure no one would notice such. I did only because I was a very critical person, naturally. I'm sure no one else would bother noticing such a small detail. I only feared that they may ask about it, and I didn't feel like explaining that one.

With nothing else to fuss over, I turned back to my sibling who still sat perched on his bed and stated, "Alright, let's go."

"Uncle, we're leaving." I called as I lifted my black coat off of the rack near the doorway, taking Kristjan's similar one and handing it over to him as well. True it was only October, and not all that cold outside for someone who was native to living here all their life, but I guess I am a person who'd rather be prepared early than sorry later. So I'd bring my coat. I slipped it over my arms and shoulders as I waited for the reply from the man I considered my guardian. I knew he must have heard me; he was only a room away in his office room. I remember him once telling us never to go into that room. I wondered why, but I was never bold enough to look and find out just yet.  
"That's fine." I finally got a reply, from the other room over that substituted as an office as I had assumed. Not bothering to fathom a reply, I opened the door near where I stood and walked out with my brother, closing the door behind us. Usually I would at least offer a good-bye to another person if I liked them, or a sarcastic yet monotonous remark if I was angry with them; but with my uncle, I usually tended not to say much at all unless I needed to. It wasn't that he was a bad person, or anything… Just that he hated us and we hated him. It was a hate-hate relationship; we stay out of each other's way.  
I mused that over as I walked down the stone steps of our small home, down the walk and onto the sidewalk, walking with a calm gait, hands in my coat pockets. Kristjan walked along side me, but I barely noted his presence as I found myself entangled in my own thoughts. Thoughts over some things I hadn't though about in a long while, like the death of our parents; and others like our uncle, my job I had to work tomorrow, and simple things like the odd fact there wasn't any snow lining the walk today. And also, how all those thoughts meshed together to help me remember that person I don't even know. That tall blonde Dane… What was his name? Mathis, I think. I might have scowled just at the thought. I was glad not to have heard a thing from him since the accident. If I was lucky, he didn't even live here and was just here on vacation back then; so I wouldn't have to see him again. What a pleasant thought.

I must have been really caught up in my thoughts, because the next thing I knew Kristjan's voice cut through my sub-conscious like a heated knife and almost surprised me. I blinked once as I looked back and asked him to repeat his question. With a sigh and an 'I knew you weren't listening' kind of look, he repeated,

"I said: do you even know where you're going? You've been walking straight for the past ten minutes." He pointed out very matter-of-factly. Stopping suddenly in realization at that, and almost causing Kristjan to run into me in the process, I looked around at my surroundings. And well… Yeah, so I didn't know where I was. Which was strange, because I never get lost. Ever. I tend to have a very good sense of direction, not to mention I've lived in Oslo my entire life. So how did I even manage that one?

"…Well, which theater are we looking for anyway?" I asked calmly, not yet admitting that I was pretty clueless right now. I didn't like admitting that one.

"Ruseløkkveien. By the Concernt Hall." Kristjan replied simply, "If you're lost why don't you ask for directions?"

"I'm not lost." I argued, though it wash ard to be considered an argument with how my voice tended to remain pretty single-toned. "Just taking a detor." Yeah… It was pretty obvious that Kristjan didn't exactly believe me on that one. I'm a pretty good liar, but my brother always could see past when I attempted to lie.

"Uh huh…" He nodded slowly as if expecting me to say more about it. When I didn't, he shook his head, "Oi. Come on, I'm pretty sure it's this way." He stated, changing our direction before continuing on down the street. I was embarassed that I had actually gotten lost, but to keep my pride intact, I kept my mouth shut. Well, at least with Kristjan leading I could space-out again and not face the consequences for it. I don't know why I've been phasing out so much lately, I just seem to keep getting caught up in my own thoughts. It may be because I'm a very analytical person by nature, or it may just be because I have a lot to think about. Either way, it was really, really annoying.

"Hey Kristjan!"

The unexpected voice once again cut through my thoughts and I grimaced a bit in annoyance; turning my head to look at the creator of this sound. A smaller man who seemed to be just about Kristjan's height, with pale blonde hair that seemed to lay smoothly around his face naturally. I could make out pale blue eyes in the center of his peach skinned face that currently held lips twisted into a smile. Tino; I guessed wisely from the description of the man my brother had once given me. Which meant that Berwald should be right behind him as always. And true be hold, he was. Berwald was much taller than Tino; or any of us for that matter. His darker blonde hair was cut short, for convinence probably, and dark blue eyes angled slightly as he walked after the younger boy. It seemed like he was glaring for no apparent reason, I decided, it gave him a very intemidating apperance. Well, at least most would think that I assumed, I on the other hand didn't really mind it. In fact, buy what Kristjan had told me, I'd probably like this man the best. Because he was quiet.

The smaller one, Tino, stopped running when he reached us, resting his hands on his knees and panting a bit; which suggested he had been running before he saw us. Why, however, I wasn't sure. "H…hey guys," He breathed, smiling all the while anyway. "We just left, I didn't expect to run into you before we even got to the theater." He pointed out, standing back straight. His eyes landed on me for a moment and I noticed the flicker of confusion that lied there in his eyes. Just before a tinge of recognition, "Oh, Kristjan, is this your brother?" He asked. We both seemed to nod at the same time, which was enough to get Tino a bit excited. "Really? Well it's nice to meet you! My name's Tino Väinämöinen," He introduced himself happily. Just by his tone I could tell the kind of person he was. He was a person who liked to be happy by default, making the most of life by what cards were played to him. I was envious of that personality in a way. "And this is Berwald O- ah!" The small Finnish man nearly leapt when he looked back to introduce his friend, only to find that said blonde was already standing precariously behind him. A bit jumpy, wasn't he? "Ahaha… Sorry, you scared me." Tino pointed out with a slightly nervous laugh. Dark blue eyes hidden behind glasses held that stern gaze as the taller man simply nodded, before that gaze slid over to look at me.

"Hn… N'm's B'rwald Ox'nst'erna" He mumbled while he spoke which made it a bit difficult to understand him, but I made out the words with little effort. I supposed he just didn't like talking, or something along those lines. He didn't seem like a talkative person anyways.

"Well, then it's nice to meet you all," I began. Ok, so I'm pretty sure I was lying, but can you blame me? I was still a little tired and not in the mood for any kind of living interaction right now. But, I supposed it could be worse than this; Tino and Berwald seemed to be people I'd be able to get along with, so I suppose I didn't really mind it. "I'm Alexander Hallkatla," I introduced myself just to be polite, though I was sure they had probably already heard my name from Kristjan at some point.

With a nod, the more talkative blonde Tino replied, "Nice to meet you too! Are you going to come to the theater with us?" He asked curiously. And I swear to God, he actually tilted his head to the side a bit with the question like a puppy. Just a little bit most people probably wouldn't notice, but I noticed it, and that was enough to bother me.

"I didn't plan on it, I was going to go down to the store," I began; only to earn a teasing plead in return.

"Aw, com'n, please? It'll be fun. We just met and all," Tino continued on with a smile. How he seemed to smile so much was beyond me. I think my face would start hurting after a while.

"…I suppose it wouldn't do any harm…" I offered after a moment with a slow nod to positively confirm his question. If it was even possible, the blonde grinned even more.

"That's great! Then come on you three, let's go before-"

"Hey! Berwald, I see you over there with your little Finn!" The obnoxiously loud voice cut through anything the much more tentative Finnish man was about to say just then, and almost even caused him to flinch. I saw the recognition in his eyes at the sound of the voice, and I must say this, it wasn't anything good. But why did that voice sound a bit familiar to me, too?

Berwald seemed to glare even more at the sound if that was possible, and turned his head to look in the direction of the sound- and the blonde man walking down the street. No, not walk, he almost strutted. A tall, though not quiet so tall as Berwald, man with wild blonde hair was currently grinning maliciously as he approached the two; clad in a dark red button-down and a pair of dark wash, near blackly stained jeans. One could almost feel the tension in the air- annoyance from Berwald, and from Tino a slight mix of fear in there as well. How strange. I hated this man's personality already. And yet, there was something… off about him. In the way he walked and the way he grinned- it just wasn't right. Like it was almost a little bit forced at the time, probably to keep his pride in tact to no one would think anything was biting at his subconscious. But I was more perceptive than that, and I noticed it. That was also strange.

"Yo, Berwald, did you really think you could just leave without me? How rude, I was hoping too-" The man cut off suddenly as his eyes looked between Berwald and the others around him, eventually cutting into my gaze. But this time, his dark blue eyes stayed there. And any sort of confidence, façade or not, that man had just seemed to drain out the window. And that's when I recognized him. I am not liable to admit that I was wide-eyed for a moment and probably gaping a bit like a fish at the time. Which I most certainly wasn't… But that really didn't matter right now. All that mattered was that, after an entire year, I once again am face-to-face with the man I've hated ever since that oddly warm day. Mathis, was his name again?

"You have got to be kidding me…"


End file.
